Temptation
by Deception Alchemist
Summary: To Hiruma, the NFL is a beauty, a temptation, that might never be attained. Inspired by the Chinese Han Dynasty song, "The Beauty Song". Slight HiruAgon


For the purposes of this story, I edited parts of the poem (reproduced in its original form at the bottom) These edits include the first line: originally "From the north," which has been changed to "From the west."

* * *

_From the west comes a ravishing maiden..._

"Have you ever heard of American football?" Hiruma asked one day as he and Agon were lounging in the latter's home.

"What? American's play football differently?" Agon asked absently. His concentration was just about solely focused on the scantily clad girl on television.

"It's completely different from football. American's are strange like that." Hiruma popped his bubblegum. "You might be interested in it."

Agon snorted as he changed the channel, "Doubt it. I haven't found a sport interesting enough for me. It's always trash that are playing, and they're too easy to beat."

"It's pretty violent apparently." Hiruma flipped through the pages of this month's _Amefuto Monthly_.

"I can beat up all the people I want to anyway," Agon reclined back into the sofa.

Hiruma ignored the comment and went on, "Apparently, chicks dig guys who play football well. In America anyway."

"I can get all the girls I want even without that shitty game."

"Girls of this caliber?" Hiruma threw the magazine at Agon, who, of course, caught it with ease. He whistled as he took in the sight of the voluptuous cheerleader waving her pompoms across the page.

"Now _that_ is a damn nice body."

"Thought you'd like it."

"So what's this American football thing?"

_Her beauty stands alone._

"Haaa?" Agon asked in disbelief. He was so surprised he almost dropped the wallet he picked out of the discarded pants of one of Hiruma's new victims. "You want to get into the NFL?"

"What else would I go for?" Hiruma smiled devilishly. He laid his camera down and typed something on his laptop. "Aim for the top! Ya-ha!"

Agon raised his eyebrow before letting out a sigh and shaking his head, all the time with a sneering smile. "I don't understand you at all."

"You don't have to. All you have to do is listen to what I say. And that means to go beat up that little fucker right there," Hiruma pointed the 'little fucker' out on his screen.

"Forget that for now." Agon slapped Hiruma's hand away, forcing the latter to pay attention to him. "You of all people should know that there hasn't been a single Japanese person that actually got to play in the NFL. If you consider that, and the fact that your physical capabilities are less than average, it's impossible."

"Doesn't matter to me," Hiruma brushed it off. "Besides, I do things nobody else has done before. Nobody else had 99% of Tokyo right in his hands."

Hiruma held up his threat book and smiled a devious grin to emphasize it.

"Whatever, trash," Agon repeated. "I'm just telling you it's impossible for you to get into the NFL."

"We'll see. Now go beat up that fucker."

_One look at her, cities fall._

"Why're you so obsessed with the Christmas Bowl?" Agon asked. He really didn't know why he bothered with the trash so much these days, even coming out of his way to this shitty school. "You're going to lose anyway. We've never even beaten the Alexanders since the beginning of the Christmas Bowl. You guys are just a first timer. You're going to get murdered."

"Well we beat did beat you guys, you know," Hiruma pointed out. He rubbed at a particularly dirty corner of his gun. "Nobody in Kantou has done that before."

Agon studied the slot machines. "I don't really care anymore, go ahead and get yourself beaten up, trash. It'll be impossible for you to win."

Hiruma looked up from his artillery. He bared his teeth and said, "Well, that's what they all say isn't it? I'll make the Alexanders fall. I'll tear them down myself if that's what it takes. I started football because of the fucking fatty. It's the least I can do for him. It's the only thing he ever wanted this badly."

"So you're doing this for that trash?"

"I'm doing it for myself. Japan's number of football players are only a fraction of America's. If I can't even win nationals here, I don't stand a chance in America."

"Which is exactly why I say you won't be get into the NFL."

"We'll see."

_With another, empires collapse._

"America's surprised," Yamato pointed out needlessly. It wasn't as if the stunned silence of the crowd, which was growing to confused murmurs, was any indication. "It's all because of you."

"Nobody would've thought that Japan of all countries would have _tied_ to America," Agon snorted. "That's what those trash get for underestimating us."

"Damn right they should," Hiruma laughed. He tightened his helmet.

"Hey, trash," Agon called. Hiruma didn't say anything. Agon took this as an indication that he should continue. "You still serious about NFL?"

There was a silence where Agon almost decided that he shouldn't have asked the question.

"You should know me well enough by now." Hiruma said quietly.

Agon was quiet for a second before saying, "You know that America's physical capabilities far exceed Japan's. Considering how worn out everybody is, and that we can't use Shin anymore, you out of all people should know what our chances of winning are."

"Kekeke," Hiruma chuckled darkly. "We've got a shot though. It's more than when Devilbats played Nagas, if you're interested."

"And how many more of those unbelievable victories will you be able to make?"

"As many as I need."

"Don't raise the hopes of your shitty teammates. Not everybody has my stamina. In fact, don't get your own hopes up."

"Since when have you cared so much about me?"

"Since you became my idiot captain."

"Well then, in that case, fucking dreads, as your captain I order you to shut the fuck up. Now let's overthrow America-sama."

_Care not whether cities fall or empires collapse..._

"Who do you think really won this game?" Yamato said quietly. He stood upon one of the benches in the locker room.

Hiruma stayed silent as he pulled on his shirt and listened to Yamato's sermon. Agon scoffed a little, saying, "He's just doing it to make the fucking shrimps feel better."

"America won only by three points, a field goal, when it was expected for the opposing team to be crushed mercilessly. Not only did this happen in overtime, which didn't influence MVP choices and who won officially, but it happened with one of our best players off the field. Even with the natural disadvantages Asians have, we forced a tie. America, as well as other countries, will now think of us as worthy opponents."

"But…Yamato…don't you wish we won?" Sena's hopeless voice wrenched at Hiruma. With no explanation, Hiruma left the room and slammed the door shut.

The room was silent.

"Fuck that trash."

/

"Hiruma." Hiruma looked up from his laptop and found himself face to face with Clifford. He looked back down at his screen to shield his eyes from the blinding lights of New York's night.

"What?"

"Good job in the finals."

The tension between the two could be felt by Agon, who was sprawled next to Hiruma on the bench. Clifford did not elaborate.

"Kekeke. If you've got something to say, then just fucking spit it out already."

There was a short pause on Clifford's part. "I'll offer you a spot in Notre Dame. You'll have to start from the lowest string, but I'm sure someone like you could work his way up."

"And I suppose Sena's being offered the first string spot right now from Panther?" Hiruma cackled bitterly. He typed something on his computer, and sure enough, Agon saw from the corner of his eye, the little piece of trash flustered and shaking his head profusely.

"Your information network astounds me."

"Notre Dame's first string, the only one that gets recognition, is comprised of athletes who have are physically adept. I probably will never be able to run faster than a 4.9 in a 40 yard dash." Hiruma stated. "It's pointless for me to go. After all, what's a quarterback who can't run?"

"...I can never seem to read you, you know?" Clifford said. He turned his back on Hiruma. "During the game as well, when I thought you would act one way, you went the other. You're so unpredictable. I would've thought you would have jumped at the chance to play football."

Hiruma's next line shocked Agon to no end.

"I'm not interested in football anymore."

___Such beauty never comes around twice._

"That's it?" Agon roared, grabbing Hiruma by the collar when they were alone in their hotel room. "All those years of hard work for the Christmas Bowl and the World Championship just gone like that?"

"I already told you, the Championship was my only chance of getting in. I can't get in the usual way through tryouts and Clifford's just full of shit. There's no way in hell that I could get into first string," Hiruma said, trying to type on his computer. Agon growled a little and knocked the computer onto the ground with a startling crash.

"You fucking took over Japan so you could play football. You won the Christmas Bowl and almost damn tied with America just so you could give up halfway?" Agon shook Hiruma roughly.

"It's impossible to get into the NFL." Hiruma stared coldly into Agon's eyes. "Weren't you the one who kept telling me that?"

Agon clenched his teeth. "Yeah? Well I also told you that you couldn't win the Christmas Bowl!"

"We didn't win the Championship. You said we couldn't do that either."

Agon was silent for a second before shoving Hiruma out of the way. "You really are trash. And I was just beginning to think you were better than the others."

"When'd you start caring about me so much?"

"Since you left me to go with that fat pig."

北方有佳人，絕世而獨立  
一顧傾人城，再顧傾人國。  
寧不知傾城與傾國。  
佳人難再得。

李延年

_Běifāng yǒu jiārén, juéshì ér dúlì._  
_Yí gù qīng rén chéng, zài gù qīng rén guó._  
_Nìng bù zhī qīng chéng yǔ qīng guó._  
_Jiārén nán zài dé_.

_Lǐ Yánnián_


End file.
